On the other side of the tub was a tray set on a stool. There was a glass of champagne and a bucket of strawberries.
Darcy stepped into the tub. She sighed when she sat down and leaned back, the water reaching all the way up to her neck. It felt heavenly, the heat seeping into her muscles to relax her.
She sat there for several minutes savoring the warmth before she plucked a plump strawberry from the bucket. As she chewed the tasty berry, she wrapped her fingers around the champagne glass and brought it to her lips.
Darcy had never tasted champagne before. The bubbles popped along her tongue before she swallowed. She loved the taste of the golden liquid, but she made sure to take small sips.
After she drank half of her glass and ate several more strawberries, Darcy simply soaked in the tub and closed her eyes. The thunder was rumbling and the rain continued to pour, but she was warm and toasty.
Only when her fingers began to wrinkle did she sit up. She saw something out of the corner of her eye and jerked her head to the window, but all she could see was rain.
She rose from the water and reached for a towel. Darcy stepped out of the tub and dried off, keeping her eyes on the window. No matter how hard she looked, she didn’t see anything.
“Oh well,” she said to herself. “I must be seeing things.”
An image of Ulrik flashed in her mind with him holding the knife. Darcy immediately closed her eyes and tried to think of anything else.
She found herself imagining a dragon, a jade dragon.
Darcy inhaled deeply and slowly released the breath. As she did, she opened her eyes. She looked at herself in the mirror.
“What happened?” she asked herself.
She recalled her conversation with Ulrik. She saw the dagger. She also remembered all too well the feeling of the blade cutting into her body.
It had been … horrific.
The agony had taken her breath, the pain exploding throughout her body in suffocating waves.
And all the while, all she could think about was Warrick.
Darcy turned away from the mirror and saw the cream robe hanging on a hook. She took the garment and slid it on, rubbing her hands along the plush dark fur that lined the inside of the robe before she belted it.
She spent a few minutes trying to work out some of the tangles in her hair. Then she walked out, fully expecting to see Ulrik.
But once more, she was alone.
Darcy looked to the left where the living room and kitchen were. Then she turned to the right. There were three more rooms.
She checked out the one nearest her and found a bedroom colored in a dark silver and pale gray. She moved to the room across the hall and discovered a massive bedroom with a king bed.
A solid white comforter without any adornments covered the mattresses. There was a single accent pillow in a deep burgundy upon the bed. As she let her gaze wander the room, taking in the light tan walls and wide white trim, she spotted more burgundy throughout the room.
Darcy then turned to the door between the two rooms. She gasped when she opened it and found a dressing room. An armoire stood off to the side nearly as tall as the ten-foot ceilings.
There was a makeup vanity and stool, as well as a chaise longue in a soft cream. A large rug of burgundy covered the wood floors.
Darcy walked into the room and touched each object as she inspected it. It was a woman’s dream. The perfect place to put shoes, clothes, scarves, and jewelry. Add in the makeup vanity, and she was in heaven.
She turned to the chaise again. That’s when she saw the clothes. Darcy recognized the black sweater as hers. She picked up the sweater and saw the jeans as well as another bra and a pair of panties. Sitting beside the chaise was a pair of her boots.
Squeezing her toes into the plush rug, Darcy eyed the clothes. Was Rhi responsible for this as well? Or had Warrick gotten it for her?
Not that it mattered. It would be nice to be in clothes not soaked with blood.
Darcy removed the robe and looked down at her stomach. She touched the spot she knew the knife had entered. It was a little numb. She walked to stand in front of the makeup vanity and looked at her stomach in the mirror.
A two-inch, narrow, pale line cut across her abdomen. How had she healed? She couldn’t remember anything. Unless she was dead.
Darcy spotted a couple of candles and snapped her fingers to light them. But nothing happened. She frowned and tried again. No flames appeared.
She shivered and quickly dressed. After the last boot was zipped, Darcy stood in front of the candles and snapped her fingers again and again.
No matter how many times she did it, she couldn’t get them to light. She searched inside herself for her magic. To her horror, it took several tense moments before she felt it.
It was dim, as if it were fading away.
Darcy’s legs gave out and she crumpled to the floor. She couldn’t be losing her magic now. Not when she needed it so badly.
She held on to the last ribbons of magic and closed her eyes as she sought out the ancients. Minutes ticked by with nothing.